


The Curve of the Earth

by monroeslittle



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Children, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-29 09:12:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8483698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monroeslittle/pseuds/monroeslittle
Summary: “I’m going to be painting with the colors of the wind in my nightmares,” Wes said.post 3x06. Laurel is pregnant. Here's what's never, ever going to happen on the show. In reverse.





	

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Just like it says on the tin, this is a fic full of stuff the show wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole. Happiness, and such. But that's the point of fic! The majority of this was written before Thursday's episode. I changed a couple of things after the episode, but, mostly, this fic takes place in a happy, fictional world that technically at this point is canon-compliant but won't stay that way for long. 
> 
> 2\. This was written really quickly, so is surely rife with typos. I'm sorry! I'm bad at editing.
> 
> 3\. There is some light sexytimes, but the rating is mostly for mentions of rape/child abuse, and, well, murder. Nothing is explicit.
> 
> 4\. Thanks to @griifinclarke for help with the Spanish!
> 
> 5\. Finally, yes, it really is written in reverse. I've always wanted to try that, and I finally did. If it's super weird, I apologize.

_When I hear your voice over the radio,_  
_From a world away,_  
_So sweet, singing out to me I know,_  
_It's a lullaby._  
_And I'm tangled in thoughts of you,_  
_And I'm all alone till you come back home._  
_Why don't you come back home?_

\---

The day of her mother’s funeral, Esperanza Walsh couldn’t find her father. He wasn’t at his house when she stopped by with his suit. She knew that she shouldn’t be annoyed with him, but she couldn’t help it.

She’d done all of the arrangements for the funeral.

She’d organized everything, and paid for everything, and just done _everything_.

The least her father could do was be where she needed him to be, put on the suit that she’d bought for him, and let her drive him to the service.

But he wasn’t at the house, and his cell went straight to voicemail, and neither of her sisters knew where he was. If it weren’t for the text from Aunt Michaela, she would never have known. By the time she showed up at her aunt’s house, she was pissed. The ceremony at the church was set to start in half an hour. The door swung open before she could even knock, and Aunt Michaela was ready for her with a sigh.

“Come on,” said Aunt Michaela, tired.

She led Esperanza into the house, and into the TV room, and it turned out that her father was going to be late to his wife’s funeral because he was watching a stupid YouTube video. He was dressed in a bathroom, hadn’t even shaved, and reeked of alcohol. Beside him, Uncle Asher was watching the video, too.

“ _Seriously_?” Esperanza said, and her hands went to her hips.

“Biscuit!”

She rolled her eyes, and decided to ignore her uncle. He, at least, was clean, and dressed in a suit, and she trusted her aunt to push him out the door in time for the funeral. “Dad,” Esperanza said, and she stared at her father.

“Hold on, this is the part where Susan shows those fools who’s _boss_!”

“ _Papa_!” She moved in front of the TV. “You’re acting like a child!” She had three grown children. She didn’t need a forth.

“Essie,” said Uncle Asher, and his voice had finally turned serious.

She glanced at him, and sighed, looking at her father again. “We have to go to the church,” Esperanza said, softer. She knew he was hurting, but he had to know that he’d regret missing his wife’s funeral.

“I don’t have anything to wear.”

“I got you a suit.” She held it up. “Come on. You don’t want to miss this. It’s only an hour.”

He was staring at the screen, ignoring her.

“Por favor, Papa,” she said. “No puedo hacer esto sin ti. Te necesito aquí.”

He didn’t say anything. But after a moment, he nodded, and moved to his feet, using the arm of the sofa.

It didn’t take him long to dress, and he shaved, too.

“Here,” he said, handing her the box when he reached the bottom of the stairs. “It’s yours.” He passed her, heading to the door, and shouting at Aunt Michaela that he was parked in behind her SUV.

“I can drive you,” Esperanza said.

He didn’t reply, and she sighed, shook her head, and opened the box. It was her mother’s pearl necklace. For a moment, she could only stare. Her eyes began to burn. She closed the box, and held it to her chest.

“I’m moving your car,” yelled her papa, and he plucked up a set of keys up, leaving the house.

“Don’t you dare!” shouted Aunt Michaela. Her voice could carry across continents when she wanted it to. “Wes Gibbins, I mean it!” she warned. “You aren’t allowed to drive my baby, and you know it.” There was a pause. “ _WES_!”

In her pocket, Esperanza’s phone buzzed.

It was a text from Davey. _How’s it going_? He was seeing to everything at the church.

 _I feel like my mother_ , she replied, and she smiled a little to herself, because, somehow, it was the best she’d felt since the moment she’d gotten the news.

\---

"The best place to start a story," said her mother, "is the end."

\---

They were on their way to dinner when Sofia called Wes to beg him for help with the grill in the restaurant. “She says it’s making that weird humming noise,” Laurel said, because she’d answered his phone. “She wants you to look at it.” She raised her eyebrows at him.

“Tonight?”

“She says she’s already lost business.”

He sighed, but put his signal on to get to the far right lane, and take the exit.

“We’ll be there in a couple of minutes, sweetheart,” Laurel said, and hung up. “We should buy them a grill for Sofia’s birthday. It’s time to retire the beast you got on cheap forty years ago.”

“Do you know how much a grill for a restaurant like that costs?”

“We’ll put off the trip to Europe.”

He shook his head. But he reached for her hand, and clasping it, bringing it to his lips, and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. She smiled.

The front of the restaurant was dark, but she could see a light on in the back.

She assumed it was going to take much longer than her daughter had made it sound on the phone, so she went in with Wes.

The door was unlocked.

“Sofia!” Wes called. “You really shouldn’t keep the door unlocked. You—”

Suddenly, all the lights were flipped on, and everyone was jumping up from behind tables to shout “surprise!” The banner that was hanging from the ceiling read _Happy 50 th Anniversary!_ Laurel clapped a hand to her chest in shock, feeling the hammer of her heart on her ribs, and laughing a little.

“Do you really think I would call you to come fix the grill at seven at night on a Monday?” Sofa asked, grinning.

They were caught in a stampede of grandchildren at that point.

“Do you like the banner, Abuelo?”

“I drew the rainbow!”

“Were you surprised?”

“Can we have the cake now?”

“It’s chocolate!”

Wes picked up Rosie, and she clung to his neck, curling up.

“You’re amazed they kept it a secret, aren’t you?” Michaela asked, giving him a kiss on the cheek. It turned out that Tara had threatened all of the kids within an inch of their lives to keep it quiet, and her threats were effective. “The girls have been planning this for months.”

“This is amazing,” Laurel said, shaking her head.

“The surprise isn’t over yet,” Esperanza said, and she held up an envelope with a bright, teasing smile.

Addie, Davey, and Tara called for everyone to be quiet, and when the crowd had quieted, Esperanza handed the envelope to Laurel with a flourish. “It’s from everyone,” she explained. She bit her lip while she watched Laurel opening it.

Laurel was stunned.

“Tickets?” Wes said, frowning.

“To Heathrow,” Laurel said. She looked up. “You paid for our tickets to Europe.”

“That,” Sofia said, “and we paid for your hotel in England, and in the other seven countries, and the rest of your transportation is covered, too, and, oh, your food, too, of course.” She wrapped an arm around her mother. “We’ve got you booked up solid for three whole weeks.

“I . . .”

“She is _speechless_!” Asher said, rousing a cheer from everyone.

“This is incredible,” Laurel said.

“You’re incredible,” Addie said, “and we want you to know how much we love you, and how much we think you deserve that trip to Europe you’ve been talking about for _years_. Mama, no! You aren’t supposed to cry!”

“I’m happy!”

She was. She was so, _so_ happy, and when she looked at Wes, she broke in a new, fresh wave of tears, and laughed at herself, too, allowing her family to pull her into hug after hug.

\---

“It ruins the story, Mama!” Esperanza said.

\---

There was a time when her life was ruled by uncertainty. She lived in shades of gray, struggling to decide who she was, and what she really, truly believed in. What hill was she willing to die on? How far was too far? Did she deserve to pay for the things she’d done? It used to keep her up at night, wondering.

“I used to worry that we were playing at God,” she said.

She’d gone through the motions with everyone at the funeral, but it was time for her to say a real, private goodbye.

“We took justice into our own, human hands, and that wasn’t really right, was it?”

She sank to her knees.

“You always _tried_ to do the right thing, though,” she said. “You took care of us. You made us a family. You are the reason I _have_ a family. If it hadn’t been for your class, I never would have met Wes. That’s strange to think about, isn’t it?” She wiped at her cheeks, and touched the top of the tombstone. “I’m going to miss you.”

Slowly, she rose to her feet, and released a breath.

There were times when she had hated Annalise, but, in the end, she’d come to love her more.

\---

“Essie, you can’t hold him like that,” Laurel said, making to take the baby from Esperanza’s arms. “His spine is too soft.”

“I know how to hold my son, Mama,” Esperanza said.

“You’re supposed to keep the baby on his back to prevent any chance of SIDS,” piped in Wes.

“That’s when they’re asleep.” Esperanza was annoyed. “Seriously,” she said.

Laurel turned away from Esperanza, and murmured to her grandson. He was the sweetest little thing, and he really was so, _so_ little _._ She’d forgotten how little they were at the start. It was scary. They were so little, and so _helpless_. They needed you so much. And she knew that Esperanza was going to be a very good mother, but she was only thirty one years old. She didn’t know anything about motherhood.

“I can take care of my own baby, Mama,” Esperanza insisted.

“I know, mi sirenita,” Laurel said, and she stroked Ollie’s chubby little cheek with her finger. “But right now, Abuela is going to spoil him for a little while. ¿Verdad que sí, bebecito? You can go take a nap, Es. Or a shower. I remember what it’s like when you’ve got a newborn. Go on. I’ve got him.”

“Is there beer in the fridge?” Wes asked.

“Yes, Papa.”

“You want a beer, babe?”

“I’m fine,” Laurel said, and when she glanced at Esperanza, her daughter was shaking her head, and smiling to herself.

\---

Laurel was in the shower when Esperanza called, because it was morning, and Laurel was trying to go about her usual daily routine.

Esperanza left a voicemail, though.

_Hi, Mama. Just calling to say that I love you. You are the best, strongest person I know. Gammy calls me a daddy’s girl, but you know I’ve always wanted to be like you. You know that, right? If I turn out to be half the person you are, I’ll be happy, because you are fierce, and loyal, and you protect your own, and I really, really love you, okay? That will never, ever change. And tell Papa that I love him, too. Okay. I’ll stop now. I’ll see you for brunch at Gammy’s._

\---

“If you know it’s going to be okay in the end, you can enjoy it more,” said her mother.

\---

She was half-asleep, comfortable, and ready to be carried to bed when Wes said her name, and his voice was sharp, serious.

The room was dark, but the shape of his face was visible in the blurry blue light of the TV, and his frown matched his voice. Immediately, the mother in her was in a panic. “What’s the matter?” Had there been a car accident? Had Addie’s boyfriend broken up with her? Had the tropical storm turned into a hurricane, come onto the coast, and to Virginia? She pulled her feet out of Wes’s lap, and sat up.

He held out his phone to show her, and it wasn’t anything she could have expected.

It was a text from Esperanza.

_Did you murder a man?_

The breath was punched from Laurel’s lungs. What the hell? She stared at the text for a moment, dumfounded, and saw dots appear on the scream, meaning that Esperanza was sending another message.

Laurel shifted to allow Wes to look at the phone with her.

_This man saw the announcement in the paper, and came to my house. He says he thinks his dad was murdered. He says that you were a suspect, and that he thinks you did it._

Suddenly, the phone was ringing.

It was Connor.

He must have gotten a call from Davey. She answered it. She didn’t have the chance to say hello, of course.

“Keep your mouth shut,” he ordered.

“I’m going to tell her.”

“Damn it, Laurel! We agreed that they never had to know about this shit. _You_ agreed.”

“This is different.”

He made a noise of frustration.

“Look, I’m not going to tell her about Sam, or Rebecca, or—or anything about Nate, or Frank. I promise. But this is _my_ secret, and _my_ daughter, and I think she deserves to know. I won’t tell her about your part. I promise.”

“My _part_?”

“Connor,” she said.

“She’ll hate you.”

“I don’t think she will,” Laurel said, but she was lying. She looked at Wes. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. His gaze was enough. “I’ll let you know how it goes,” she added, and she hung up before he could try arguing with her.

She texted her daughter to come by the house to talk.

It wasn’t half an hour before Esperanza was on the doorstep with Davey in tow.

They sat at the table in the kitchen.

“Seventeen years ago, there was a scandal,” Laurel said. “Bobby McHugh Junior was a real upstanding guy. He went to church, was a volunteer swimming instructor at the local city pool, was a beloved, _respected_ member of the community, and that’s why everyone was stunned when it came out that he was a pedophile.”

“Is this going to be a really long story?” Davey asked.

Wes raised his eyebrows at him.

“I mean, you’ve been accused of murder, and you won’t actually deny it, so it’d be nice if you could get to the point, and—”

She sighed.

Davey was so, _so_ much like Connor, and it was endearing at times, but it was also one of the most frustrating things in the world. There was a reason they called him C.J. It was short for Connor Junior, and it was the most accurate nickname any of their children had been given.

“How about you shut up, and respect your mother?” Wes said, sharp.

Davey crossed his arms, but he was silent.

“He was a pedophile, but he got off in court because he was a lying, manipulative bastard.” She shook her head. “Three days later, he was murdered. Immediately, the police had their eye on the father of a five-year-old who McHugh had raped. The father insisted that he might have _wanted_ to kill McHugh, but he hadn’t actually done it. He came to me, or, well, to Gammy, and asked us to defend him. We agreed, and we got him off.”

“That’s it?” Esperanza said. “The son blames you, but that’s just because you helped the murderer get off?”

“Kevin wasn’t the murderer,” Laurel said.

“How do you know?”

“Because I was the murderer.”

It was silent.

“Is this a joke?” Davey asked. “Because it’s fucking awful. This isn’t funny, Mom. Wes.” He looked at Wes. “Tell me you guys are just really fucking twisted about jokes, because—”

“Do you remember the summer when you were a little girl, and we signed you up for swim lessons at the pool, and you loved it?” Laurel asked, talking to Esperanza, and ignoring her son-in-law. “But we took you out of the class in the middle of the summer, and you wouldn’t talk to us for a week? And at the end of the summer we went to the beach, and Uncle Asher taught you to swim, and you forgot all about the pool, and your old lessons, and the instructor, Mr. Bobby?”

Esperanza was quiet.

“Bobby McHugh Junior was _not_ a good person,” Laurel said. “He should have gone to prison for life to pay for the children he hurt, but he didn’t. He got off, because our system isn’t perfect. That’s the cost of a democracy, of a presumption of innocence, and I want to say that I respect that system, and adhere to the way it works, good, bad, and in between. But, truth is, there came a day when I couldn’t.”

“Fuck,” Davey breathed. “You’re serious. You . . .”

It was silent.

After a beat, Laurel continued, and told the rest, or as much as she thought she needed to.

“Gammy . . .” Esperanza said.

“She loves you so much, you know,” Laurel said. “You’re her granddaughter. You and your sisters and you, Davey, and your sister and Tara. She’d do anything for any of you. I would, too.”

It was quiet.

“I know it’s a lot,” she added. “I know. You can take your time with it.”

Esperanza was quiet, but she nodded. After a beat, she cleared her throat. “Thanks for telling me.” She swallowed, and Laurel wanted to reach for her hand, to touch her face, to hug her, and _hold her_ , but she knew that she needed to allow Esperanza to sort through her feelings, and to come to her. “I guess you don’t want me to tell Sofia, or Addie?”

“If you think they should know, I’ll tell them,” Laurel said.

“Right,” Esperanza said. There was a pause. “We should go.” She glanced at Davey, then at Wes. “It’s late. I’m supposed to be at the hospital at seven. I need to sleep.”

Her chair toppled over when she pushed it back to stand, making the tension somehow worse.

Laurel couldn’t blame her daughter for freaking out, or for trying to hide it. She’d just found out that her mother was a _murderer_. Laurel wasn’t ashamed of the things she’d done, because she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she was. But she’d been raised to see the shades of gray, and she’d raised her daughter in a world that was kinder, gentler, that didn’t force her to see the shades of gray.

Esperanza left.

In the silence, Wes put his arm around Laurel.

She leaned her head on his shoulder.

“She’ll understand,” he murmured, and he kissed her temple. “It can hurt to understand, but she’s strong, and she knows you, and she’ll understand. I love you, too.”

“Love me forever?” Laurel said, because that was never, ever in question.

“Forever, and more,” he promised. He rubbed her arm in reassurance. “Forever, and more, Laurel.”

\---

She hadn’t come close to crying at the rehearsal, and she thought that meant she’d be fine at the ceremony.

But when she saw Wes with Esperanza on his arm, she couldn’t help herself.

Esperanza was beautiful.

She heard Wes’s voice in her head, complaining about the cost of the dress that Michaela had helped her pick out, and she laughed to herself, and touched a hand to her mouth, trying to keep it together. She smiled at Wes when they passed her. Esperanza wasn’t looking at Laurel, though. Her gaze was stuck on Davey. He was half-smiling, half-gaping, and Laurel had never, ever loved the boy as much as she loved him in that moment.

Her daughter was marrying Connor’s son, his pretentious, know-it-all, too good looking, devil-may-care mini-me.

Across the aisle, Connor caught Laurel’s eye.

He winked.

She shook her head at him, and kept her gaze from lingering on the empty chair beside him. Wes sat by her, and she took his hand, and when he gives her a kiss on the cheek, she leaned into it, and squeezed his hand.

\---

He comes up behind her, and puts his hands on her hips, dipping them dangerously low, and dipping his head to kiss her neck.

“You know my hands are covered in blackberry pie filling, right?”

He nuzzled her chin. “Do we need to use your hands?” He pulled up her skirt, and spun her.

She laughed.

He smothered the sound with his lips, kissing and kissing her.

If he wasn’t careful, she was going to forget, and run her hands through his hair, and he’d have to explain to the kids why he had blueberries filling dripping off his head. But, of course, he clearly wasn’t concerned with that. He hoisted her up easily, setting her on the counter, and he trailed his kisses to her neck. She tilted her neck to give him access. She lifted her thighs, too, and made it easier for him to tug off her underwear. She was about to reach for the fly of his pants, but he dropped to his knees, and pushed her legs further apart when he went, smoothing his hands up her eager inner thighs.

She slapped a hand to the counter when his tongue curled around her clit.

She had her head thrown back, was grasping at his head with one of her hands, and had began panting in Spanish in her desperation when there was a sudden, high-pitched shriek.

Her head snapped up.

“I didn’t know!” Davey screamed, holding a hand over his eyes.

“Why aren’t you at the game?” she asked, dazed.

“I came home early!” he exclaimed, and he ran into a wall of the kitchen. “I’m sorry! I didn’t see anything!”

“Sweetheart,” she said, holding in laughter.

He made it out of the kitchen.

“Did you actually need something?” Wes asked, raising his voice for Davey to hear. His lips were glistening, and there was blackberry filing dripping out of his hair, and he glanced at Laurel, and at the doorway again. “Or can I finish?”

From the hallway, there was some sort of strangled squeaking noise.

“I’ll just—I’ll—I’ll—I’ll ask later!”

“Ask?” she said.

“What do you need, C.J.?” Wes said, sighing.

“I can ask later!”

“You’ve already interrupted us.”

“Really, I—”

“Spit it out, Walsh,” Wes said, and Laurel smacked lightly at his stomach.

“Can I please marry your daughter?”

It was quiet.

“Sir? I want to marry your daughter. Please?”

Laurel tried to cover her mouth with her hand. It didn’t work. She was leaning forward, bending over, half-falling into Wes with laughter.

“Did you just call me _sir_?”

“Um, yes. Sir. I think I did. I had a whole speech! I just got thrown off. But I—okay, I love—”

“If she wants to marry you, you’ve got my blessing,” Wes said, interrupting. It was the kindest thing he’d ever done for Davey. “Laurel? He never said ma’am, so I’d understand if you want to withhold your blessing.” He raised his eyebrows.

She stifled her amusement. “You’ve got my blessing, too,” she called. “If she says yes, you can even call me mom. You’ve always been a son to me anyway.”

“Okay.”

Wes kissed her.

“Great. Thanks! Real good talk. I’m going to go, and—and wash my eyes out with soap. We’re never going to talk about this again, right? Right. Great!”

\---

They were in court when Michaela got the text from Connor that Oliver was in a collision on the highway that morning, and he was in the hospital.

The night that followed was one of the worst in Laurel’s life.

She’d once thought that she’d experienced much, much worse than a stupid car accident, but there was helplessness to sitting in a hospital waiting room with everyone while Oliver’s life hung in the balance. Michaela harassed a lot of doctors for information. Wes got dinner for everyone. Asher made a lot of stupid, useless comments, then took Connor’s wrath. Oliver was going to make it through this, but the waiting and the worry and the sheer, stupid _uselessness_ was torture.

Laurel kept an arm around Madeline.

She was fifteen.

She couldn’t lose one of her fathers; she had so much more of her life to live, and she needed both of her parents.

If she could have given any comfort to Davey, she would have.

Instead, he sat by himself, and ignored the rest of them. He was nineteen. He might not think it, but he was just a kid, too.

They got the news at five in the morning.

He hadn’t made it through the surgery, because his injuries were just too severe.

It didn’t seem real. If he’d been murdered, it would’ve felt more real. Was that awful to think, to realize? Somehow, the idea of losing a person they loved to some stupid accident just didn’t make any sense. They had, though. Oliver was dead. Just like that, he was gone, and it was because an asshole had _needed_ to send a text. He’d texted, and run a light, and deprived two children of their father, deprived a man of his husband, of the love of his life.

Connor looked ready to break down throughout the funeral, but he managed to keep it together.

He’d always been stronger than he thought.

They had everyone at Annalise’s after the service, and, in the end, their family spent the night. It was good. Connor was strong, but he needed to be with family. His kids needed their family, too. Laurel’s girls holed up with Madeline. Asher gave Davey a glass of whiskey that helped him to sleep. And when Laurel woke up at two in the morning, went to the bathroom, and heard Connor crying, she found him curled up in bed, and Michaela was curled at his side, holding him.

Laurel left them, returning to Wes.

“Hun,” she whispered.

“What?”

“I don’t think I could be okay without you,” she told him.

In the dark, he stroked her cheek.

“Promise me,” she said. “I mean, I know you can’t. But just do it anyway? For me? Promise me that I’ll never have to be without you?”

“I promise,” he said, and his voice was low and rough and certain. She loved him. And she loved her daughters, and her friends, and her relatives, but she was always, always going to love him the most. He was her confidant, her friend, her teammate, her champion, her husband. She scooted into his chest, clinging to him, and allowing him to envelop her in his arms, his warmth, his love.

\---

“But how can you enjoy the story if you know what’s going to happen?” Esperanza insisted.

\---

“You are _unbelievable_!” Esperanza said. “Seriously, Mom? _Seriously_? Has it occurred to you that I am going to die an old fucking _maid_ if you continue to ground me every ten seconds because you don’t like a guy you’ve never even met?”

“Cuss at me again, and see how long you’re grounded for,” Laurel said.

She thought Esperanza might actually scream.

“And I don’t need to meet the guy,” she added, “because his record speaks for him. He’s seventeen, Essie. Seventeen, and he already has _two_ DUIs.”

“Who _fudging_ cares?”

“You think I’m going to let my daughter get in a car with—?”

“It isn’t up to you!” Esperanza yelled.

“Right. Oh, wait. It isn’t up to me except for the fact that it is _completely_ up to me, because you are sixteen, and I am your mother.”

She screamed.

“Wes!” Laurel said, turning to her husband. “Could you back me up please? Now?”

He sighed. “Biscuit,” he said. “Your mother—”

“I have a _name,_ Papa.”

“Esperanza.”

“I’m not listening to this,” Esperanza said, starting to leave the kitchen.

“You _are_ going to listen to this, because he is your _father_.”

“It’s not like he’s going to say anything you haven’t already said. He’s just going to agree with everything you say, because he _always_ just agrees with everything you say. Seriously, I’m not sure he even thinks his own thoughts.”

“Essie, come on,” Wes said.

“You’re darn right that he agrees with everything I say,” Laurel said. “You know what that’s called? _Marriage_! And you’re going to listen to everything _we_ say, because you know what? That’s called being a teenager under my roof!”

“Oh, my God!”

“I know you don’t like it, but—”

Esperanza threw up her hands, and stomped out of the kitchen.

“You better be going to your room!” Laurel shouted. “Esperanza! Esperanza Rose Castillo! Si te atreves a poner un sólo pie afuera, estarás castigado por el resto del año!”

“Te odio!” Esperanza screamed in reply, and she stomped up every single step, slamming the door to her bedroom shut after.

Slowly, Laurel turned to look at where Wes was seated at the table.

“She didn’t try to leave,” he offered.

“You’re useless,” she replied, and she snatched up his beer, because she really, really needed alcohol right now.

\---

They went to Mexico for a week the spring that Laurel’s mother turned sixty to celebrate the occasion, taking a plane as soon as the girls got out of school on Friday.

Their family trips were always fun, but this was the best one yet.

Her family in Mexico had planned a party for her mother, and everyone was thrilled that Laurel was there, that her girls were there. Of course, the girls loved that they were fawned over by relatives. They knew they were going to be spoiled by their abuela, but they hadn’t expected her sisters, cousins, nieces, and nephews to shower them with affection, praise, and treats, too.

Her cousin with a degree in photography took about a thousand different photographs that night.

It was hard for Laurel to pick a favorite.

There was the picture of her mother, her aunts, and her daughters. There was the picture of Addie in her mother’s lap, and the two of them were smiling the exact same smile. There was the picture of her mother forcing Wes to bend down so she could hug his shoulders, and kiss his cheek.

In the end, she framed all of them, and put them in a line on her desk to cheer her up whenever the case of the week was driving her to insanity.

\---

Addie had to get her tonsils out when she was five, which meant she was miserable for a week after the surgery.

She had to eat a lot of soup, because she couldn’t eat solids, and food that was cold hurt. She couldn’t go to school for a week, was afraid that her voice would sound funny because of something that Davey had told her, didn’t even sleep properly because they had to wake her up regularly to give her medicine.

They let her sleep in their bed, though, and Wes stayed home with her for the week, watching Disney movies with her. Or, well, he watched _a_ Disney movie with her. Singular.

Addie had a bit of a crush on Pocahontas.

“I’m going to be painting with the colors of the wind in my nightmares,” Wes said.

She got better eventually, of course, went back to school, and they only had to watch _Pocahontas_ on occasion. But they had to watch it a lot again right before Halloween, because she needed to “research” her costume. Obviously, the costume that Laurel made for her turned out to be spectacular, and Wes made a very cute Meeko the raccoon.

\---

It was after Michaela’s eighth miscarriage, second IVF round, and first, heartbreaking admission that clearly the universe didn’t really believe she was capable of being a mother that Laurel told Wes what she was thinking, and he said if she was sure, then he was behind her.

At first, Michaela insisted it really wasn’t necessary. “I’ll adopt,” she said. She wouldn’t look directly at Laurel.

“You don’t want to adopt.”

“Right, and that makes me a terrible, unfeeling person, especially because _I_ was adopted.”

“No.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Michaela said. “Really. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“You want a kid,” Laurel said, “and if I can help you get one, let me.” She held Michaela’s gaze, and when Michaela looked away, she kept on looking at her. She was getting older, but she was certain that she’d still be able to carry a pregnancy to term.

Eventually, they decided they wanted her to do it.

Asher hugged Laurel so tightly it stole her breath for a moment.

The girls were fascinated by the pregnancy, about the idea that doctors had taken genes from Aunt Michaela, combined them with genes from Uncle Asher, and put them inside Laurel to make a baby.

“Your mother is doing something amazing for me,” Michaela said.

Asher drew an explanation on a napkin.

Addie took the napkin to show-and-tell, and Laurel got a call when she was in court from Addie’s teacher about the kind of things that were appropriate for show-and-tell in a first grade class.

Tara was big when she was born, and healthy.

She weighed nine pounds, had downy black hair on her head, big brown eyes, and the sweetest, chubbiest cheeks.

“I love you,” Michaela whispered, “and Daddy loves you, and we’re going to take such good care of you. Do you hear me? You are so, so loved, my _precious_ girl.” She couldn’t take her eyes off the baby, wouldn’t let anyone take her daughter from her. Asher didn’t mind, crying and laughing and taking a ridiculously unending number of photos.

It was one of the best things that Laurel had ever done, helping to bring that baby into this world.

\---

Laurel got out of court early that afternoon, and arrived at the house to find Wes, the girls, and Asher having a giant tea party. “The girls heard that their Uncle Asher is a judge now, and had to throw a party for me,” Asher explained. Laurel saw that they’d managed a very elaborate setup, making her smile.

“Chocolate chip cookie?” Addie said, holding an empty plastic plate.

Asher pretended to pick up a cookie, and take a bite, then he closed his eyes, and moaned. “Darn, that’s a good cookie.” He pretended to shovel the rest into his mouth, and eat with full, bulging cheeks.

“Don’t hog them,” Laurel said, and she snatched a cookie off the plate for herself.

From across the table, Wes pretended to take a sip of tea from a small plastic teacup with his pinky in the air.

“I want tea, too,” Laurel said, toeing off her heels.

“Everybody wants to celebrate how awesome Uncle Asher is,” Asher said.

“It isn’t _tea_ , Mama,” Sofia said.

“It’s hot chocolate!” Addie exclaimed.

“Tea is gross,” Sofia said, and Addie stuck her tongue out, then paused. She looked at Esperanza, who stuck her tongue out, and pointed in her mouth in demonstration. Addie pointed in her mouth, too, and looked at Laurel to show her.

“I didn’t know we drank hot chocolate with our pinkies up,” Laurel said, sitting, and accepting a teacup.

“It was Piglet’s idea,” Sofia said, gesturing at her pink stuffed pig.

“The party was Piglet’s idea,” Wes said.

“My man!” Asher said, holding up his hand to Piglet.

Sofia giggled, and picked up the pig to make his paw give her uncle a high five. Wes wanted a high five from Piglet, too, and Laurel, and “Biscuit, I know you want one, too,” Asher said, pointing, and Esperanza got a high five from Piglet. Addie demanded one, and laughed madly, and wanted to do it again, and again, and again. Sofia was happy to oblige. Laurel ate another pretend cookie, and, under the table, stretched her legs, crossed her ankles, and rested her heel on top of Wes’s foot.

\---

Addie was smaller than both of her sisters when she was born, and quieter. It actually scared Laurel a little when she came out, and there was silence. But after a pat on the back, Addie snuffled, and snorted, and they put her in Laurel’s arms.

She was small, but she was healthy, strong, and beautiful.

She was darker than her sisters, too, and when Laurel saw her in Wes’s arms, and realized that the shade of her skin was identical to Wes’s, she was happy for reasons that she couldn’t quite explain.

They named her Adrienne Annalise Castillo, though Wes wanted to call her Addie for short from the start.

Annalise teared up when she heard the name.

“Give her to Gammy,” she said, reaching for Addie, and trying to pretend that she wasn’t actually crying.

Eve bit her lip to suppress her smile.

Three days later, Eve forwarded Laurel the e-mail that Annalise had sent to the whole school faculty.

_Just wanted to let everyone know that my granddaughter was born on Monday. She’s healthy, doing very well, and Mom is, too. I’ve made a sign up for meals for the family. If you can make something, I can pick it up from your house at a time that’s convenient for you._

“Do you know how happy you make everyone?” Laurel asked Addie.

In reply, she blinked, and made fishy faces with her mouth.

“If I really made you happy, you’d feed me,” Wes said, lying in bed with them, and speaking for Addie. “I’m starving, Mom. Don’t you know? You haven’t fed me in at least an hour. I can feel the end is near.”

Addie’s face scrunched up with the start of a cry.

“Is your papa being silly?” Laurel said, pushing up the shirt of her pajamas.

\---

Esperanza was eight when Laurel got pregnant again. They had been trying for another for over a year at that point, and Laurel had begun to think that it wasn’t in the cards. They had a daughter, and that was enough for them.

She was glad to be wrong.

It was different being pregnant when she was older and married and settled.

This time, she was allowed to be excited.

Nobody saw her bare left hand, and judged her. Nobody made comments about how she wasn’t being realistic if she thought she could have a baby while in school. Nobody acted like they pitied her, only to whisper about irresponsible, slutty girls who got knocked up when they thought she couldn’t hear them.

This time, the world was happy for her.

She was happy, too.

Sofia Michaela Castillo was born in the middle of the night, and had a nice, healthy pair of lungs on her, waking up half the hospital with her squalls.

\---

Wes spent the spring in a panic, worrying and working and waiting for everything to explode in his face. It didn’t. Things went smoothly, and he opened his restaurant at the start of the summer.

Esperanza asked to wear Laurel’s pearl necklace to the opening.

She _loved_ that necklace, insisting on wearing it to picture day at school every single year.

The restaurant wasn’t that fancy, but they had fun getting all dressed up for it. Laurel got her a dress for the opening, fixed up her hair, and, yes, let her put on the pearls. Esperanza say proudly at the counter with a giant ice cream sundae dish throughout the morning, beaming.

Everything went perfectly.

It wouldn’t be wrong to say that a lot of the customers who streamed in that day were old, grateful clients who Laurel had contacted, but they loved the food, the atmosphere, the _restaurant_ , and they would be able to spread the word.

“I’m proud of you,” Laurel said, sitting at the counter.

He smiled. “It isn’t exactly the high-powered, money-making attorney career that I pictured for myself.” He closed the till, and came to stand across from her.

“It’s the career that’s going to make you happy,” she replied.

He nodded.

“I expect it’ll bring a bit of fame, too.”

“Fame.”

“The uppity food critics are going to heap the praise on you,” she said, and he shook his head in amusement. “I know it. I can see it now.”

“Can you see a future where the restaurant closes within a year?”

She tapped her chin. “Mmm. No. I can’t.” She shrugged. “You’re going to be stuck with success, Gibbins.”

He laughed.

She grinned, and leaned up over the counter for a kiss.

“I love you,” he murmured.

“I love you, too,” she said, “and I’m _very_ proud of you. Seriously. Even if it does fail in a year, I’ll still be proud. You amaze me, Wes. You always have, and you always will.”

He smiled.                                                                                     

They headed home soon after. Annalise had Esperanza for the night, which meant they had plenty of time to themselves to celebrate the opening day’s success.

\---

Connor didn’t come to brunch very often, but he came with Oliver on a Sunday when Esperanza was seven, and announced that the two of them are fostering a pair of siblings, and, if everything went the way they hoped, they’d adopt them.

Everyone was stunned.

“It’s something we’ve talked about for a while,” Oliver explains, “but it’s such a long, difficult, and, you know, just—just an emotionally-wrought process, so we wanted to keep it to ourselves until we were more sure about everything. Now we’re . . . more sure. This is happening.”

“Well, congratulations!” Michaela said.

Oliver smiled.

The whole table broke into laughter, and everyone began congratulating them, asking about the kids, and offering to help with anything at all.

Finally, Esperanza wasn’t going to be the group’s only baby.

The siblings were cute, yellow-haired, and sweet-looking. Davey was seven, and his sister, Madeline, was three. They looked like children from a frame stock photo.

Madeline was easy to adore; she took to having new parents like a fish to water.

Davey was a handful, though.

He was angry a lot of the time, and swore, kicked, and misbehaved at every possible turn, and basically just refused to listen to anything that either of his brand new parents said.

“I don’t have to listen to you,” he insisted. “You’re just going to send me back anyway. Everyone does.”

But it turned out Davey had met his match in Connor.

It took months, but, slowly, they become a family. Everything became official. The kids were happy, and the parents were, too.

“What are we going to tell them?” Connor asked.

They’d celebrated Esperanza’s birthday with a party, and while the rest of the partygoers had gone home after, Connor’s kids were spending the night, and were tucked asleep upstairs.

“What do you mean?” Laurel asked.

“I mean, do we ever tell our kids the truth about us? What we’ve done? The people we’ve killed?”

It was quiet.

“You haven’t ever thought about it?”

“Not really,” she admitted.

He nodded. “Right. It’s better not to tell them. Right? They should never have to know the kind of people we are.”

“It was a long time ago,” Wes said. “It’s the past. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

In reply, Connor’s smile was humorless.

“I agree,” Oliver said, squeezing Connor’s knee. “It’s the past. We did things we had to for the people we care about, and now it’s over.”

\---

Esperanza became _obsessed_ with mermaids just in time for Halloween, so naturally she insisted on being a mermaid, and Wes’s costume had to match, too, which was how he came to be dressed like Sebastian the crab for Halloween.

It was tradition, after all.

It had started when Esperanza was a baby, and Asher had brought her a Golden Snitch costume, “because you’re a huge HP nerd, bro,” and, delighted, Laurel had made Wes dress up like Harry for a photo with her.

She had thought it was the absolute cutest thing in the world.

The year after that, Esperanza was Piglet, and Wes was Tigger, because he refused to be Pooh.

She was a Dalmatian when she was three, which meant that Wes had to be a fireman. Laurel though they might have outdone themselves that year. They were cats from _The Aristocrats_ the year after that, and Ghostbusters when Esperanza was five, and when Esperanza was a princess, Wes was the dragon. That was Laurel’s favorite costume yet. Of course, that was before she saw her husband in a homemade crab costume with her daughter in a sparkly mermaid costume, and realized that this year was the year that couldn’t be topped.

She kept that photo the background on her phone for months, then had it printed, and framed.

\---

She joked about eloping, and actually, seriously considered it a couple of times, knowing that Wes would easily agree. But, in the end, they went through with the big, ridiculous wedding that Laurel’s stepmother had planned. She wanted her friends to be there, and, truthfully, she wanted it to be a big, happy memory for Esperanza.

The ceremony was short, but the reception after lasted hours into the night.

Thankfully, they ate dinner at the start.

Asher gave a speech, and Michaela, and Laurel’s father, though she hadn’t exactly asked him to give a speech.

They hadn’t exchanged vows in front of everyone in the church, because, well, neither of them was comfortable with that kind of showy, sappy display of feelings.

But when they were dancing, he whispered his vows to her.

“You are the love of my life, Laurel,” he said.

She lifted her eyes to meet his gaze.

“I know I’ve said it before, but I have to say it again, and it still isn’t enough. Not really. I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to put into words how much you mean to me. But I can do this; I can promise you that I’m going to love you forever, and more. And I promise to be your friend, and your partner, to be on your side through everything that gets thrown at us. I promise to let you put your icy feet on my legs in the middle of the night, and I promise to put the cap on the toothpaste as soon as I’m done with it, and I promise to tell everyone that you’re a great plant mom, and that you’ve never, ever forgotten to water your plants until they starved to death.”

She laughed, and wiped at her tears, pressing her forehead to his chest for a moment.

“I promise that I’ll always be there for you, and for our daughter.”

“I promise, too,” she told him. “I promise that I’m on your side, too, and I’ll always take care of you, and support you, and the next time we’re exchanging vows, let me know ahead of time. ‘Cause I’m kind of a mess right now.”

He laughed, and touched his lips to the crown of her head, pressing a smile to her hair.

They were interrupted at that moment, because Esperanza couldn’t simply stand on the sidelines for long.

They danced with their daughter.

Wes danced with Laurel’s mother, with Annalise, with Michaela, and with Oliver, and, of course, with Esperanza.

“I called it, you know,” Asher said, spinning her.

“What?” Laurel asked.

“That you were going to end up with the puppy. Called it. I kind of have a radar for this stuff, you know, and, whoa, it was going off like crazy from day one when it came to you with our boy.”

“Congratulations,” she said, amused.

“You’re stuck with him now,” he added.

“I know.”

“You’re going to look after him?”

“I promise,” she said.

He nodded, and when she looked at him, he was smiling. “I’m happy for you,” he said, softer. His gaze was warm, sincere.

“I’m happy for me, too.”

It wasn’t an hour after that before Asher was drunk, before Michaela and Connor and Annalise were drunk, and it became a party. Laurel’s mother fished Esperanza out from where she’d fallen asleep under a table, and left with her. Laurel finished doing the rounds with her family, and when she’d said hello to all of them, she got drunk, too, and danced with her husband, and with the family she’d made for herself.

\---

She had a tendency to sleep in on the weekends, but that was never something that Wes seemed to do. Even when they were in school, he was early to rise every single morning. It figured that he’d turn their daughter into an early riser, too.

Laurel didn’t really mind, of course.

She heard the music from upstairs, saw it was past nine, and had to get up, wanting to see what they were up to, and wanting to get something to eat.

They had YouTube up on the TV, and were watching some music video.

She smiled when she realized they were trying to copy the dance in the video, turning with a jump like it was the Macarena, and doing something weird with their hips, and gesturing with their hands like the singer in the video. She leaned on the doorframe, watching. The song slowly came to an end, but, apparently, Wes had set it on repeat, and it started up again.

\---

She made herself take a break from pouring over the case at nine, because Wes would be finished with tonight’s bedtime story any minute, and she needed to give her daughter a kiss, and tell her goodnight.

“—says when people get married, they change their names to be the same,” Esperanza said, matter-of-fact.

In the hallway, Laurel paused.

“Is that so?”

“Yes.”

“I guess this Susie knows just about everything, huh?”

“She says that Mama is going to change her name, but I told her that you were going to change your name.”

“I see.”

“Papa?”

“Yes?”

“I’m glad you’re marrying Mama.”

“Me, too.”

“How long have you loved Mama?” she asked.

“Forever.”

“And now you’re getting married, and that means you’ll keep loving her forever, right? And you won’t get divorced, because Ben’s parents got divorced, and it was because they didn’t love each any more. But you’re going to love mama forever, right?”

“Right.”

“And ever, and ever, and ever?”

“And ever, and ever, and ever, _and_ _ever_!” he exclaimed, and she broke into a fit of giggles.

“And when you love a person for forever, you make a whole new person to brag about it,” Esperanza said.

“Exactly.”

“That’s why you made me with Mama.”

“Right.”

“Te amo, Papa.”

“I love you, too, Biscuit.”

Before Esperanza could continue quizzing her father, Laurel pushed open the door all the way, and came in, smiling at the sight of the two of them. Esperanza was sitting up in bed, tucked under Wes’s arm, and leaning on his chest. “Mama!” she exclaimed. Wes slipped from the bed, and Laurel bent to give her a kiss, and help her settle in under the sheets.

She was always easy to put to bed after she got her story, and a couple of kisses.

Afterward, Laurel stopped Wes in the landing with a hand on his shoulder, and tilted her head up. Dutifully, he bent his head. “Yo también te amo,” she murmured, and kissed him. She felt him smile into her lips, and when his arms went around her waist, she kissed him again.

\---

Her mother had visited the U.S. three times since Esperanza was born, but, finally, they went to Mexico to see her. Esperanza was five. It was the most exciting thing that had ever happened in her life, getting to go on a plane to travel to Mexico for a month to see her abuela.

Laurel was excited, too.

She was _relaxed_.

She could enjoy seeing her mother without worrying about what was waiting for her in the U.S.

For the very first time in her life, the future in front of her was clear, and happy, and _right,_ was what she wanted, what she chose. Annalise had asked Laurel to join her practice. In September, Laurel was going to be a partner with Keating, Castillo, and Pratt.

They had talking about getting married before.

Still, it stole her breath when they were sitting on the porch, and he took the ring from his pocket.

“ _Wes_.”

“Marry me?” he said.

The sun was setting, and she could hear her mother singing Esperanza softly to sleep inside the house, and it was so simple, so perfect.

\---

Connor was cutting the pancake on Esperanza’s plate into little, bite-sized pieces for her while his phone was passed from person to person at the table. His sister had just had a new “oops” baby, and he was showing off pictures at Michaela’s request. He smiled at Esperanza.

“Where do babies come from?” she asked.

He froze.

The table was silent.

“What?”

“Babies,” Esperanza said.

In a panic, he looked quickly around the table. Laurel was more than happy to have him handle this, though. She pressed her lips together to suppress her laughter, and raised her eyebrows.

“Mommies grow babies in their tummies, Biscuit,” Michaela said.

“How?”

“Um, magic.”

“If two people really love each other, they make a baby with . . . their love,” Oliver tried.

“Why?”

“To—to brag about it,” Connor said. “To be, like, hey, we love each other so much, and we’re so awesome, and . . . that we made a whole new person to prove it.”

“Oh.”

It was quiet.

“Can I have more syrup?” she asked.

“Yes!” Connor exclaimed.

Everyone began talking at once to change the subject. Laurel had to cover her mouth with her hand to keep in her laughter, and, across the table, Annalise was doing the same. Connor made a lake of syrup on Esperanza’s plate, and she gave him a big, toothy grin, showing the dimples in her cheeks.

\---

“You were on the list of suspects very briefly,” Annalise said, “yes, but they aren’t going to bring any charges. They think it was David, so we get David off by proving reasonable doubt, and we’re done. Let them think we got a murder off, and everyone can forget about this.”

“How do you know they won’t arrest her after you get David off?” Wes asked.

“She’s got an alibi.”

“I do?”

“You were at Connor’s. He needed helping planning his surprise birthday party for Oliver. You volunteered. You wanted a distraction from having lost the case. You left the office at five, which I confirm. And you went to Connor’s, which he confirmed.”

“Connor?” Laurel said.

“There’s no way he’s okay with that,” Wes said.

“He’s already given his statement to the police,” Annalise said. “He loves Essie, too, you know. It was his idea.”

\---

Wes made her sit on the sofa. He sat beside her, rubbing the tops of her thighs for a moment before taking her hands. “Look at me,” he said. She looked at him. “What happened?” he asked. His hands were warm, and his gaze was steady, and she nodded.

“I _killed_ him,” she said.

“Who?”

“McHugh.”

He stayed right beside her.

She explained, or she tried her best to explain. She was a mess. She’d managed to drive all the way home without a problem. But as soon as she’d stepped into the apartment, she’d started to shake. She had _killed_ a man.

“It was an accident,” Wes said, squeezing her hands.

“We _chose_ to let him die.”

“He wouldn’t have saved you. And if this hadn’t happened, who knows what he would have gone on to do. This wasn’t murder, Laurel.”

“No?”

“It was justice.”

She shook her head.

“Laurel.”

“We don’t just get to play at God, Wes.”

He pulled her to him, though, and wrapped his arms around her, and she sank gratefully into his chest, breathing in sharply, and starting to cry.

“It’s okay,” he murmured.

“I’ve done everything that I could to stop myself from being my father,” she said.

“This doesn’t make you like him.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Do you believe that I love you?” he said. “Because I do.” He kissed the top of her head. “And I am right here with you, and we’ll figure this out together. I promise.”

“Love me forever?” Laurel asked.

“What?”

She choked on a laugh. “I’m sorry. I think I’m losing my mind. I’m sorry.” She pulled away from him slightly, and covered her face with her hands.

Gently, he took her hands, and pulled them from her face.

She met his gaze.

“ _Forever_ ,” he said. His gaze was unwavering. “Forever, and more. I love you, Laurel. You’re the best thing in my life, the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You’re the best thing I’ve ever known. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she whispered.

“Do you think I’m like your dad?” he asked.

“What?” She wiped at her cheeks. “No. No, of course not. You’re nothing like him.”

“I killed Sam.”

She shook her head. “That was different. You were . . .” She didn’t finish, but she didn’t have to. She understood what he was saying.

“I love you,” he promised.

She moved into his arms again, resting her cheek on his chest. “I love you, too,” she said, and she wasn’t shaking any longer, but she stayed in his arms. She didn’t know what was going to happen next, but she’d worry about that later. She was sure Annalise would have some sort of plan. “I love you, too,” she repeated.

\---

She was walking to her car when saw him, leaning on a Volvo that was parked right beside her car. She stiffened. It was nearly ten at night, she was exhausted, defeated, and desperate to be at home with her family, and the very last thing she needed was to run into one of the most vile men she’d ever had the misfortune to meet.

She decided to ignore him, and take her keys from her purse, continuing to her car.

“You are going to ignore me?” he said.

She was silent.

“I thought you couldn’t take your eyes off me, or who knew how many more children I’d hurt. It was something like that, right? You were certainly sure of yourself when you were charming a jury.”

“ _Charming_?” she repeated.

“It’s okay,” he said. “I don’t hold a grudge. I won.”

“You are _sick_ ,” she told him. “Repulsive. People like you _need_ to be locked up.”

“It’s a shame the jury didn’t agree.”

She curled her hand into a fist.

“You cost me my job, Ms. Castillo. Even though I was found not guilty, it’ll be tough to get a job working with kids ever again. It’s okay. I’ll find a way. I’ll move. My life just isn’t . . . _fulfilled_ without children.”

“If you go near another child, I will—”

“What? Come on. I was found not guilty. You can’t try me again for the exact same crime.” He smiled. “There’s _something_ in the law about that, isn’t there?”

“If you commit it again, we can try you again.”

“Right.”

She shook her head. “Go to hell.” She couldn’t look at his smug, smirking face one minute more. She turned on her heel, unlocking her car.

“Give your daughter a kiss for me,” he said. “She is _such_ a sweet, sweet little girl. I only wish I’d gotten to spend more time with her.

In a fit, Laurel didn’t even think. She yanked the pepper spray bottle from her purse. “McHugh!” She turned, and saw his pause on his way around his car, saw his smirk, and, in the same, sudden split-second, she took a step to him, and sprayed him in the face.

He shouted, and fell into the car, crumpling, and trying to block his face.

She lowered the spray.

She watched him rolling on the ground, clawing at his face, and making strangled, begging noises. The noises gave way to gasps, though. His fingers curled against the gravel of the lot.

He actually couldn’t breathe.

It was then that she remembered that they’d learned absolutely everything about this man in preparation for the trial, including that he was an asthmatic.

There was probably an inhaler in his pocket, of his car.

Could she do that? Could she _not_? Could she watch him die?

She dropped her purse in her sudden, panicked fumble for her phone. She’d call 911. She’d tell them that a man attacked her, and she’d used her pepper spray bottle on him, and it seemed like he was having a reactive asthma attack. He would try taking her to court for this, but she wasn’t worried about that. She’d figure it out.

“Don’t.”

Her gaze flew up.

“Annalise,” she breathed.

“I left the file for tomorrow’s divorce proceeding on my desk,” Annalise said. “I had to come back to get it. I need to at least have looked at it before tomorrow.”

“I—I forgot that he was asthmatic. I—”

“I know,” Annalise said, calm.

“He needs an ambulance, or he is going to die.”

“I know.”

She curled her hand around her phone, and stood, looking at the pedophile on the ground in front of her.

She swallowed.

She dropped her phone in her purse.

“He’s never going to hurt another little girl again,” Annalise said, staring at McHugh. His movements were slowing. After a moment, Annalise reached for Laurel’s hand, and took it in her own, squeezing. “Get in your car, Laurel,” she said, “and go home to your family. It’s late. They’ll be wondering where you are.”

\---

They watched her sleep. They stood in the doorway, and watched the fur on her teddy move slightly with each soft breath she released, and Laurel’s heart burned at the thought of what could have happened. She was five years old.

She was such a bright, happy girl who loved her family, loved her friends, loved the world.

What if it had been her?

“Think they can get him put away for the rest of his life?”

She leaned into him, and he took her weight, wrapping his arms around her. “They better,” she murmured, tracing her eyes over Esperanza’s dark, messy hair, and the pink of her cheeks, over the shape of her curled up under the sheets. She was so little, so sweet, so _innocent_ , and Laurel was never, ever going to let someone hurt her.

\---

She got a text from Connor when she was in court. She’d meant only to glance at it, to confirm that it wasn’t anything important. It made her curious, though.

_What pool is Essie going to for lessons?_

She texted back quickly, telling him it was the local city pool by Michaela’s apartment, and asking him why he needed to know. His response was immediate, wanting to know the name of her instructor. She frowned. _I forget. She calls him Mr. Bobby. Bobby McSomething, I think. Why?_ She heard Annalise clear her throat in annoyance, and she needed to put the phone away. She glanced at it one last time when another text came in, though.

_Because an instructor at your pool just got arrested for molesting his students._

The hour that followed was one of the worst in her life.

But it turned out that Bobby McHugh Junior had never, ever touched her daughter. She teared up slightly at the knowledge. “What’s the matter, Mama?” Esperanza asked, and Laurel just hugged her.

\---

She didn’t know why, but Wes told Asher that he could make the playlist for Esperanza’s third birthday party. In his defense, he did have some good Disney hits on there. He included the classics, for example, and sang along with the songs at the top of his lungs, assuring Michaela that he’d make a man out of her.

Still, it was Asher.

It figured that after they opened her presents, ate the cake, and played pin the tail on the donkey, they’d end up dancing to R. Kelly’s _Ignition_.

And, of course, she liked it, and they had to play it again, and again.

“It's the remix to ignition, hot and fresh out the kitchen,” Asher sang, and Esperanza copied Connor’s dance moves, or tried to, and Michaela told Essie to smile for the camera.

\---

It had become a tradition to have brunch every weekend at Annalise’s. Laurel wasn’t really sure how it had come a tradition, but. It was a chance to catch up with everyone, to relax, and be a family.

“Biscuit, where’s your papa?” Asher asked.

She pointed.

“There’s your papa,” Michaela said, indulgent, and Asher held up a hand for a high five, which Esperanza gave him.

“Where’s your mama?” Wes asked.

She pointed.

Laurel smiled, and leaned to give the baby a kiss. She was almost eighteen months old, talking and walking and turning into a real, actual person. She picked up a piece of toast with chubby, careful fingers, and ate it.

“Who am I?” Asher asked, pointing at himself. “Biscuit, who I am? Who am I?”

“Toast,” she said.

“Close,” Connor said, smirking into his glass of juice.

“Who is that?” Laurel asked, pointing at Asher.

“Who am I?” Asher asked.

“Unkasser.”

She got a round of applause for that.

“Toast,” she said, bright, and she held it up to Wes until he bent his head, and let her put it in his mouth.

“Where is Grandma?” Asher asked.

She pointed.

“There is Grandma!”

“Gammy,” Esperanza said.

“Yes,” Annalise said, smiling.

“Gammy.”

“I’m here, sweetheart.”

Esperanza fed another piece of toast to Wes, and when he kissed her fingertip, she giggled, and grabbed up another to give him, and waited, and giggled wildly when he pretend to eat her hand, too.

\---

She took Esperanza to Annalise’s for the night, then had a couple of hours to shower, and shave, and, well, she did her hair, too, because she could, and she put on makeup, and a set of underwear she’d ordered online especially for tonight.

She was putting on heels when she heard Wes come into the apartment, calling a greeting.

She heard him in the kitchen, opening the fridge, and opening a couple of drawers, and she went to stand in the doorway of the bedroom, watching him. “Esperanza is spending the night at Annalise’s,” she said. His back was still to her, which was amusing her more than it should, and she put a hand on the doorframe, crossing her ankles.

“Why?” he asked, turning at last.

She raised her eyebrows.

“Oh.”

“I had some ideas for what we could do to pass the time,” she said.

“I think I might have some, too.”

“Yeah?"

He set his beer on the counter, and started for her. She bit her lip. He stepped in, forcing her to turn until her back was pressed to the doorframe. “Yeah,” he said. He bent to kiss her, and his breath grazed her mouth, but he tilted his head, and pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to her neck.

She breathed in sharply, smiling, and slipping an arm around his waist to draw him closer still.

He trailed a line of kisses up her throat.

She reached for his belt.

He kissed her on the mouth at last, and when she hooked her thumbs in his waistband, he broke the kiss to grin. He had to toe off his shoes before he could push down his pants, and he pulled his shirt up over his head, tossing it. She kissed his chest, and kissed his mouth, wrapping her arms around his neck.

He grasped her thighs, and hiked her up.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, kissing him, and he carried her into the bedroom.

\---

She had poop in her hair when she opened the door. She didn’t even open it all the way, assuming that it was just Wes, and he’d forgotten his keys. She unlocked it, opened it slightly, and turned away again. “It’s like she _knows_ that the newborn diapers don’t fit anymore,” she told him, “and she’s pooping to spite me.” She was going to collapse on the couch, and sleep for a week.

She might smear some baby poop on the couch in the process, but at least it wouldn’t really smell.

“I would have brought some diapers,” Meggy said.

“Meggy,” Laurel said, blinking.

“Hi. Sorry, I . . .” She gestured. “I probably should’ve called.”

“It’s fine,” Laurel said. “I just, um. I thought you were Wes. He went out to get some bigger diapers, and. He forgets his keys a lot.”

“Right.”

There was a pause.

“Can I—?”

“Yes! Come in. Please. Come in. Place is kind of a mess, but I think we’ve got a pack of beer if you . . . ?”

“I’m okay,” Meggy said. “I just wanted to stop by, and check in on you. See if there was anything I could do to—” She cleared her throat. “To help out.”

“That’s, um. That’s really nice of you,” Laurel said, feeling a swell of affection and confusion and guilt. “I’m okay. Tired, but. Okay. Let’s just say that it’s a really good thing she was born in the middle of the summer, and I’m not trying to juggle her, work, and school. It’s a struggle just juggling her.”

“I bet,” Meggy said, smiling.

“Do you want to see her?” Laurel asked.

“I was hoping I would.”

Esperanza was awake, was swaddled, and lying in her pack-n-play, and when Laurel picked her up, she blinked at Laurel with all the innocence of a baby who hadn’t just pooped on everything.

“She’s beautiful,” Meggy said.

“Do you want to hold her?” Laurel asked.

“If you don’t mind, I’d love to.”

Laurel smiled.

Gingerly, Meggy took Esperanza from Laurel. “She’s little,” she said. “I mean, of course. Duh.” She shook her head, and laughed a little at herself, looking at Laurel. “Seriously, though. She’s incredible.” She smiled.

“Thanks,” Laurel said.

“Can I be honest with you?” Meggy asked.

“Please.”

“I came by to apologize to you. I said some stuff to you that—I was angry, and hurt, and I took it out on you, and I shouldn’t have. Truth is, I knew even when I was dating Wes that his heart wasn’t really in it. I just liked him so much that I didn’t want to admit it to myself.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Laurel said. “I didn’t mean to steal him from you, or anything. I really liked you. _Like_ you. Things with Wes just kind of happened, and I never meant for you to be hurt in the process.”

“It’s a good thing they did, though,” Meggy said.

“Yeah?”

“If they hadn’t, she wouldn’t be in the world.” She smiled, and looked at Esperanza. “We couldn’t have that, could we?”

It was quiet.

“I should go,” Meggy said, handing Esperanza back to her.

“It was nice of you to come by.”

“I needed to.” She turned to go. “I guess I’ll see you around, Laurel.”

“Yeah.”

Naturally, she opened the door at the exact same moment that Wes was getting out his keys out of his pocket.

“Wes,” Meggy said.

“Meggy.”

Meggy passed him out of the apartment, and didn’t look back.

“Um, is everything . . . ?” Wes asked, shutting the door, and raising his eyebrows.

“It’s fine,” Laurel said, smiling.

Esperanza made a loud, wet farting noise in reply, which, of course, meant that she had pooped again.

“ _Tell_ me you got the diapers.”

“I got the diapers,” Wes said. “Here.” He set the paper grocery bag on the table. “I’ll take her. You can go shower. Or sleep.” He reached for Esperanza.

Laurel gave her over happily. “I’m going to shower, _and_ sleep,” she said. “And I’m going to need you to order some pizza for dinner.” She started walked towards the bedroom, and glanced over her shoulder. “Get a large with, um, mushrooms, olives, and pepperoni, and, oh, breadsticks!” He grinned, and she smiled, and turned, hearing Esperanza make another wet farting noise.

\---

The group came together to see Laurel in the hospital, and to see Esperanza. Oliver brought flowers. “She’s cute,” Asher said, tilting his head at the baby in Michaela’s arms.

“She’s beautiful,” Oliver said.

“Is everyone pretty psyched that she isn’t actually a biscuit?” Asher asked.

“I didn’t eat _that_ many biscuits!" Laurel scoffed. “Did I happen to have cravings like any normal pregnant woman? Yes. And, admittedly, it was mostly, _usually_ cravings for biscuits. But I didn’t eat enough to _turn my baby into a biscuit._ ”

“You ate a lot,” Asher said.

“You kind of ate a lot,” Connor said.

“There was a time when I saw you with them so much that I suspected you might keep a supply of them in your purse,” Oliver said.

\---

Everything about the baby was tiny, and pink, and sweet. _Perfect_. “She’s got your mouth,” Laurel said, looking at the bow of her tiny pink lips.

“How can you tell?” Wes asked, staring at the baby in his arms.

“It’s not because I’ve spent a lot of time looking at your mouth,” Laurel replied, and Wes laughed, and drew his gaze away from Esperanza for a moment to smirk at Laurel’s teasing.

Laurel had chosen the name.

 _Hope_.

“The social services woman is going to be back this afternoon,” Wes said. “I filled out as much as I could of those forms that she left yesterday. You’ve got to do the stuff I don’t know.” He nodded at the stack of papers on the little rolling table by her bed.

She reached for the stack. “Castillo?” She frowned. He’d filled out Esperanza’s name information, and hadn’t put Gibbins. “You don’t want her to have your name?”

“Gibbins?” Wes said, and his tone was dismissive. “I figured your name was better. I mean, it’s actually your name. And it comes with a family, a history. It’s real.”

“Right,” Laurel said, and she thought of her father, of eyes swollen shut when men hadn’t done what they were supposed to, of her stepmother, of the way that rope rubs your skin raw when you’re tied up, of the history that came with her name. She looked at Wes, and at Esperanza. “It might be real, but, trust me, isn’t a name to be proud of.”

“But it’s _your_ name,” Wes said, and it was the _way_ he said it that mattered.

He was looking at the baby in that moment, and wasn’t the first time that she felt a swell of emotion in her chest, and knew. She was in love with Wes. “Castillo,” she said, agreeing. “Esperanza Rose Castillo.” She smiled when his head snapped up, and she hoped he wouldn’t be angry at the suggestion.

His wasn’t, though. He smiled. “Esperanza Rose Castillo,” he repeated, and he was pleased. She bit her lip. She hoped the baby got his smile.

\---

They got a cheap, two bedroom that was small, and shoddy, and hardly any better than Wes’s place before, but the rent was affordable, and they were going to fix it up. Her father had offered to buy a condo for them, but. If they were going to do this, they were going to do it her way, and that meant without her father’s overbearing, manipulative interference.

They cleaned it, and painted it, and replaced a couple of the faucets, fixtures, and doorknobs.

And, on a cold, blustery afternoon in February, they moved in.

They got Asher, Michaela, Connor, and Oliver to help with promises of pizza. Asher brought beer, and Oliver brought several pictures of the group that he’d printed and framed, and Michaela brought mouse traps, cockroach repellent, and ant poison.

“Really?” Wes said.

“I saw a mouse the size of an opossum in the stairwell,” she replied.

Asher set down his end of the sofa. “Isn’t that stuff bad for the baby?” he asked. He pointed at the box of poison.

“Laurel isn’t going to be sniffing lines of ant poison,” Michaela said, irritated.

It was nice of their friends to help.

But, honestly, it was nicer when everyone left, and they had the apartment to themselves. This was it. They were living together now, and this was going to be their life.

Laurel got to lounge on the sofa in her pajamas, to eat the frozen cheese tortellini that Wes had cooked for her because she was _needed_ it, to laugh at Wes’s repeated failed attempts to set up the cable.

“It says to click the mute button!” she insisted.

“Why?”

“Because that’s what it says to do!” She waved the useless instruction booklet at him. “The arrow is pointing at . . .”

“What?”

“I think we have the wrong instruction book, because our remote doesn’t actually look like that.”

He took the instructions.

“Oh!”

“What?”

She motioned at him to come, and he came, frowning, and sitting on the sofa. “Here.” She grabbed his hand, and pressed it to the swell of her belly.

“Is she kicking?” he asked.

She.

They had learned just a couple of weeks ago. It was a girl. They were having a _daughter_.

“Can you feel her?” She moved his hand slightly. “She was just right here.”

She felt the baby kick her again. Wes must have felt it, too, because a slow, sweet smile spread on his face. He flexed his hand slightly, pressing his palm to her belly.

“She knows tonight’s a big night for us,” Laurel said.

He looked at her.

Even after everything they’d been through these last few months, he still managed to take her breath away when he looked at her like that.

“Yeah.”

She touched his cheek.

He kissed her.

“You want to set up the TV tomorrow?” she murmured.

His answer was another, deeper kiss. She ruined it when she smiled, but he pressed a kiss to the corner of her smile, to her jaw, to her neck, and her smile became a gasp when his hands slid up her thighs.

\---

The moment that Michaela saw Laurel on the sofa in her apartment, she freaked. “What’s going on?” she demanded. Her gaze flew from Laurel to Connor, and Oliver, to Wes. “Why is she crying?” She stalked to the sofa. “What is it?” She looked over Laurel’s shoulder at the computer. “Is that the video of Susan Boyle on The X Factor?” she asked, incredulous.

“She cries at everything,” Oliver said.

“It’s just a really nice moment,” Laurel said. “Can you imagine what it must have been like for her? It's just . . . it made me cry _before_ I was pregnant, you know.”

“Sure,” Connor said.

“My God, I thought it was something to do with Frank!” Michaela exclaimed, throwing her hands up.

\---

She woke up slowly, blinking at the ceiling, and realizing that her head was stuffed with cotton, that her limbs were stiff, and her throat was sore, and. She remembered. She was in the hospital.

“Hey.” His hand brushed her arm. “Hi.”

It was Wes.

“Do you want something to drink?” he asked, starting to stand.

“Yes.”

There was a large, lidded cup of water with a straw on a cart by the door, and he fetched it for her, only to put it down again when he saw that she was struggling to sit up. He shifted the pillows, and helped her, then gave her the water. She drank it eagerly, and he smiled, but it was a small, closed-mouth smile. His face was drawn with exhaustion, and he rubbed at his eyes when he sank into the chair by her bed again.

“I was worried about you,” she told him. “I woke up earlier, and I . . .” She swallowed. “I panicked. I thought—”

“I’m fine,” he said, reaching to take her hand. “I had no idea you were in the house. If I had, I—” He swallowed. “I would have been here.” His gaze was steady. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t. I’m here now, though.”

“I’m pregnant,” she said, because she had to say it.

“I know.” He sighed. “Oliver.”

“I didn’t know until the doctors just said it to me like . . . like it was nothing, like . . .” She shook her head. “What are we going to do?”

He was quiet.

“Nothing is going the way we planned,” she said. “Then again, when does anything ever go the way we plan? I mean, _Nate_ is dead, and . . .” She closed her eyes for a moment, breathing in, and swallowing the urge to cry. “What are we going to do? About any of it? It’s a mess.”

“The plan is _still_ going to work,” Wes said.

“What about Nate?” she asked.

“Annalise will figure it out.” He sighed. “It could be worse.”

“Worse?”

“It could have been you,” he said.

She reached up to touch his face, and he turned his cheek into her palm, kissing her wrist.

“I’m _pregnant_ ,” she said, swallowing.

“Yeah.

“What do you want to do?”

“I . . .” He shook his head. “I really don’t know. I mean, I’m not ready for . . .”

“Me, neither.”

He sighed.

“What?” she said, soft.

“I’ve never really had— _anyone_ . . . for long. I lost my mom, and none of the families I was put with really stuck, and, well, I’ve always been kind of closed off. All of the people I’ve hung out, people I’ve dated, all the people I’ve known have just kind of been . . . there for a bit, and gone again. I’ve never had a person I counted on.”

“You can count on me,” she told him.

“That’s what I’m trying to say,” he replied. He brushed his thumb over the back of her hand, and when she turned her hand in his, he intertwined their fingers. “I count on you. I don’t know what we’re going to do, Laurel. But I know that whatever we decide to do, I want to do it with you. Together. No matter what, we’re in this together.”

“Together.”

“I love you.”

Her breath got caught in her throat. “Yeah?” she said. She held his gaze.

“Yeah.”

“I love you, too.”

He pushed the hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear.

“Together,” she repeated, and she squeezed his hand. “We’ll figure it out.” She was tearing up, but she smiled, and he smiled, too, and it was going to be okay.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Fine.”

“Should I call a nurse?”

“No,” she said. “I’m okay. Seriously, I’m not even really tired.”

He seemed ready to argue with her, but he didn't have the chance. They had visitors. “ _Laurel_!” Asher exclaimed, bounding into the room. “You really had us freaked, girl.” He came in with Michaela on his heels, and Connor right behind.

“Do you need anything?” Michaela asked.

“I’m fine.”

Asher rocked on his heels for a moment, wavering, before he decided to go for it, and kissed the top of Laurel’s head.

“I am _not_ fine,” Connor said, shutting the door.

“We shouldn’t talk about this right now,” Michaela said, lowering her voice.

But they _were_ going to talk about it right now, because this was their life. They were going to fight in hushed, angry voices about a secret, accidental murder while their mentor was in jail, an injured, pregnant Laurel was in the hospital, a maniac was on the loose, and exhaustion was rolling off them in waves. Connor began arguing with Asher, Michael, and Wes.

Laurel kept a hold of Wes’s hand. She thought for a moment when he scoffed at Connor that he was going to let go, but he didn’t. He held on, and she held on, too.

\---

“Because,” said her mother, “just because you know how it ends, doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy the ride.”

\---

**Fin.**

\---

 _And when I see the curve of the earth in your willow eyes,_  
_I'm a rocketeer coming home after years at the speed of light._  
_And suddenly you're there,_  
_Like a pearl in the palm of the universe,_  
_Your unlikely skies,_  
_Filling up my eyes,_  
_You come as some surprise._


End file.
